


Needs

by Hyacinthium



Series: Hyacinthium's Discord Shorts [15]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Adult Content, Depression, Disturbing Themes, Heavy Angst, Hypersexuality, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Multi, No Sex, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overdosing, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Pre-Game Oma Kokichi, Suicide, Violent Thoughts, compensated dating, stay safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 08:23:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: Kokichi can't keep a job. He can't keep anything normal. But that's fine. He's fine.How repulsive.





	Needs

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to Desires! Check end notes for more warnings. This is not a happy fic. If you are reading this then you should be an adult, as that is what you are agreeing you are. After reading all the warnings you are fully responsible for your own well being. If you think you would be at risk for ANYTHING by reading this, do not. 
> 
> https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
> 
> https://www.childhelp.org/hotline/
> 
> https://www.rainn.org/
> 
> http://crisiscallcenter.org/crisisservices-html/
> 
> https://www.aa.org/
> 
> https://drugabuse.com/library/drug-abuse-hotlines/

Dating is always a wild ride. First, you set up boundaries and talk a bit online. Then you ask about what the other person likes, what they want, about the transaction. Sex. Or at least that's how it tends to go for Kokichi. But he knows full well that real dating is a different kind of transaction. What Kokichi participates in isn't just dating at all, no.

What Kokichi does is called compensated dating- where he receives things in exchange for providing companionship to people. Mostly older men. Just like the old man straightening his expensive tie in the bathroom mirror.

Older than the usual middle aged salaryman, the boy muses. He carefully fixes his own button down shirt. After this dinner date he doesn't have anything important to do. Quickie in the bathroom aside, Kokichi wants to at least wring a desert out of this too. He checked his phone earlier. His calorie count for today allows it and it'd be the first time in a month. Also, this restaurant is pretty damn expensive. There's no way that the boy is leaving without trying something with real chocolate in it.

There was some kind of dark-milk-white chocolate matcha ball thing on the menu. With actual chocolate content. Good sex complete with condom aside, eating that will probably be the highlight of Kokichi's night.

Wrinkling his nose for a second, purple eyes glance down at the little trashcan that now contains a filled contraceptive. At least the old guy didn't try to go in raw. Walking around with semen leaking out of him would be degrading. Not that Kokichi can really care at this point. The boy obediently smiles, bashful and thankful for makeup covering his bruised eyes, when the man looks at him. Just as always. It's so exhausting to laugh and smile like he wants to be here. 

Honestly…

At least the need coiling inside of his lower abdomen, and his neck, and his brain is gone. Being able to thinking properly is always nice. Kokichi should be good for another few days. All his dates will stay simple then, until it starts again.

He doesn't make as much anymore- but this system is much better.

The rest of the date proceeds just as planned. Old man number #3891 remains the same person as before, proper etiquette that Kokichi mostly matches, now with more added innuendo based jokes. Kokichi smiles and gladly makes appropriately innocent-embarrassed remarks. Yet at the same time his replies have secretively flirtation undertones. He has a role to play here, but it's also a tightrope to make sure it doesn't become too much. Still a whore after all. 

Even if most of his arrangements are no longer purely for fucking in exchange for money.

It's a good thing, Kokichi reminds himself. Their waitress takes away the plate that once housed his delicious dessert with a smile. Strained, tired, her left shoulder is far too tense for it to be normal. Kokichi ignores it and looks up at his date.

Silver white hair and a mustache that actually suits him. The man looks far too dignified for someone who goes looking for a teenage boy to date. He must have a good job to go along with that expensive wedding ring. Might have a kid or even grandchild the boy's age. Well, Kokichi isn't younger than eighteen anymore. Probably eighteen. Maybe he's nineteen now. It's all very funny and fuzzy to remember-

"Do you ever wear earrings?" the man asks.

Kokichi smiles instinctively, "Not really! Do you think I'd look good with some?"

He tilts his head slightly and wonders if he's going to be getting another gift besides the watch. Maybe he should try to milk the opportunity too. Just more things to pawn off for cash or to keep and feel goodish about. Most of what he owns is gifts anyway. But the man just laughs it off- as if Kokichi can't read the slight confusion and curiosity in the contours of his body. The boy decides that it's not worth pursuing. He tucks his hair back and smiles throughout the night.

It is all familiar. It is all a combination of actions and suggestions and words that are unoriginal. Kokichi has done it a thousand times before. He gets dropped off and says goodbye as if he earnestly enjoyed the man's company. All of it is tiring lies that make the chasm in his chest widen. He walks to his apartment in nonsensical circles, stopping in to shops and leaving out the back, and eventually he is in his cheap 1K apartment. 

Not a cheap hotel, or motel, or net café. No shelter. Not the street. 

This is his apartment. A small kitchenette. One bathroom with only a shower. Cleaned on hands and knees for hours and hours at least once a week. Kokichi slumps the moment he gets inside. 

As always, he rushes to the shower and scrubs until his skin is red. Until the tangled mess of scars on his back shows up. He'll have to buy more makeup soon.

Kokichi doesn't bother to look at the things around his hips and thighs. Seeing the words carved into him is just a worthless exercise in despair. He also doesn't bother to do much of anything, really. The bottom of his shower is as clean as it can get, in a bathroom so small- and Kokichi curls up in a bottom corner with closed eyes.

Even with the water off, it's nice to sit on unforgiving materials and not think. Familiar. 

Later, a pair of knee length shorts and a plain black hoodie hides bare skin. Kokichi's teeth tear into minty gum as he sets up the futon. 

He decides to watch the light show tonight. It's something to do with constellations, so the top of the dome is going to be going through them all night. It's maybe the only good thing that can be attributed to world wide climate destruction. Sometimes you get to look up at the thing enclosing you and see neat stuff. Perks of a poisonous environment. So Kokichi watches that fake night sky, with names under constellations, listening to a live stream that explains each one. The constant advertising for DR gets on his nerves though. But Team-Danganronpa is trying a last ditch effort to save themselves from bankruptcy and probably jail. 

So sure- Kokichi will listen to ads for season 53. It probably won't even get out of planning.

The constellation that belongs to him is the Gemini. Kokichi idly wonders how much money he'd make with a twin attached. Maybe he wouldn't even need other people. 

If his twin existed, they would probably be disgusted. 

Fair. 

Going to sleep too late will fuck up scheduling and eating, he decides. A sad but true fact of life. Kokichi eventually turns off his phone and stops staring up at simulations of space, closing cheap curtains, and goes to sleep.

Not waking up would be great, he thinks to himself.

Unfortunately for Kokichi's rapidly draining ability to care, he wakes up. Life continues as before. He gets less able to enforce rules. He doesn't even bother wanting to. At some point, the boy just stops trying entirely. The heat pricks back to life inside of him as always. Walking. The bus or any other transport. Anything. All fogging up his head like an illness while Kokichi just wants to buy simple groceries- anything- always.

Slut. 

Kokichi can't stand it. Hates it too, the seemingly ever present arousal or risk of it. That the body he's in decides to betray him during each microsecond of existence. There is nothing that Kokichi will not eventually like. Willingness is a matter of time and lust. In just a handful of days he will lose control and become consumed by the need for sex. He doesn't even know how to maintain relationships without it. The drugs didn’t help very much, though Kokichi is clean again. Mostly. 

Nothing ever helps. He's very aware of that fact. 

Fixing isn't possible. 

For someone with no real legal 'presence' and no future- Kokichi cannot be much more than he is. 

When the old man that straightened his tie, after asking if Kokichi was alright, asks if the boy wants to go on yet another date; Kokichi says yes. What he actually wants is to grab a knife and stab it into the man until tiny slices of entail are strewn around the room. How long as it been since Kokichi has last seen blood? Not long enough in the end. 

Dangan Ronpa fans are freaks with fucking freak requests. Horrible, but they pay well enough. 

He still says yes. He still goes on yet another subsidized date, holding onto the man's arm like there's anything other than 'mutual benefits' going on. Calling him ‘Papa’ because that's customary and also what he wants. Kokichi smiles goodbye at the end and checks his inbox as he goes to the apartment. He ate good today, chewed the perfect amount of times too. It was good food and very nutritional. Kokichi brushes his teeth a dozen times to wash the taste of cock out. He retreats to his room and fucks himself until there's an ache making him curl up and shiver. Wasted hours with no point. Still not satisfied. 

There are no interesting stars to look up at tonight. The sky is broken. Hopefully it'll get fixed by next week. Despair cultists review everything. At least they don't believe in using mass transportation. 

For a TV show to spark a cult full of apocalypse craving terrorists is insane. All of them dressed as tribute to either Junko or a remnant of choice… 

A dead world like this is worthless, is what Kokichi thinks before bed. 

It's around a week later that Kokichi treats himself to a latte, one with real coffee. He's had an okay day so far. Things feel alright. 

The person that looks at him while giving him the coffee recognizes him.

Kokichi cannot say that he returns the feeling.

It's not even the kind of look that conveys 'oh I saw your page oh fuck'. No, it's with horror in it, it's with a certain kind of guilt inside that Kokichi is almost happy to see. There is nothing more satisfying to see than remorse after sex. At times. 

When his heart is screaming while beating, pulse dulling his senses. 

This kind of look, on the face of a woman around his age, is one that makes Kokichi remember a certain fact. For his appearance is not so different at eighteen then it was, for instance, at the age of twelve. And so from there it cannot be so different from the age of eight. Nor at the time when he was four. 

She is putrid then, the way her eyes dart nervously with Enoshima Blue contacts, infected and decaying inside like every other human being that has ever imagined touching him. It makes him want to yank out her eyes with his pocket knife. There are children in the shop- and Kokichi wonders if she would enjoy watching videos of them begging too. Probably. He wonders if she paid. He wonders if she thought the video was recent. He wonders if he could find them, again. 

Probably. 

Maybe he'll find the one where he got whipped and kicked in the stomach. 

Kokichi takes his latte and leaves.

He does not drink it. 

His back itches. 

The scars itch and throb and the fingers on his skin grin at him, wounds and bruises that no longer exist sending blood out from long healed cuts down his thighs. Is he sure that the brand on his spine is healed? Is he really sure? Which video was it- but the boy cannot remember much of anything from some points. He doesn't want to. 

A cup full of latte gets dropped onto pavement. 

It is so very tempting to try and find drugs. Doing it wouldn't even be difficult for Kokichi to do. But he's been clean since that time, he's sure, and the boy can't help but feel disgusted by the idea of going back on. So he goes to a liquor store and buys alcohol instead. Fake id is wonderful. 

Living in a shitty area full of shitty people is too. Kokichi looks twelve and no one bats an eye at him buying tons of bottles. 

‘u look like ur 12 wwwwww’

Ahahahaha. 

Maybe he should try to cut the middle man and just die. Maybe the brain aneurysm or deadly STD he's waiting for can't happen. Maybe he's just not lucky enough to get a murderer’s attention. Maybe he should chug the vodka and the sake and whatever else he snatched up. Maybe that's the answer. Break the end of the bottle against the crumbling walls and slit his throat. 

Exit stage left the way he came in. 

A rotting husk that no one wants. 

If he has to let another human being touch him, then he'll be dead anyway. If he has to hear the word slut coming out of one more amateur dirty talker, Kokichi will commit murder instead. It wouldn't be the first time. 

If Kokichi has to walk into another room and see the sinking dread enter the eyes of another prostitute, again, if he has to fall lip onto a bed while the girl that was under him has to stare at the men laughing behind them- again-

Kokichi goes into his perfectly organized bathroom and gathers up each type of medication that he has. The pile on his futon is a mess that makes him fix it, meticulous, and and then it gets ruined when he pours pills out onto pale hands. They go down roughly burning with something sweet and chestnuty. The syrups too. 

Really, it's not much. The boy might have a good dream. 

There's always been a certain manner of dissociative separation. Like his body isn't functioning in tandem with his brain, but his brain is infected too, his brain whispers things into his feeble mind. Of course, then there's him. Something that people might label as the heart or the soul. But the heart they talk about is a traitor too.

Kokichi's mother did not touch him because she loved him. She did not invite others to play with him because of love. The man that killed her did not love him, though Kokichi thought that is was love and so his scared mind obeyed the terrified brain that made his body cling- his heart desperate for the fantasy of an adult that saves him and only sometimes fucks him. As if that would happen. 

An eight year old has childish fantasies even when-

Hands.

But wouldn't it be romanticism and good to just-

What a nice defense. 

Such a shame that Kokichi was shoved into a basement instead. What a shame. All that pain that was supposed to fix him. What a shame his body ended up forcing him to like it instead. 

The vodka is gone. 

What a shame that a degenerate policeman wouldn't notice a malnourished ten year old’s barely hidden shank, until it's ripping open his guts. At least the door out was still open. Two years. And again, and again with more other times, and now he's just. Here. 

Love is not something that Kokichi is made for. None of it is him, nothing is for him, honestly. Someone is going to lock him up again one way or another. Kokichi will like it too. He always does. 

In the end. 

Another handful of pills chewed up into an alcoholic paste. Kokichi's lungs and throat won't breathe right. It makes his swallowing hurt more. 

Being realistic is a good value. 

A handful of things fall onto the futon as the boy starts twitching. 

Kokichi's only value is sex. 

Exhausting. 

Kokichi watches a bottle of cough medicine glug glug glug onto the cheap flooring. Everything is so exhausting. He can't move. Sweaty. It's cold. He's hot. His eyes aren't working. Did the pills get swallowed right? A pale hand wavers like a blur to where the bottles should be. The alcohol or the pills? 

Drinking just like mommy after daddy didn't come home. 

Ah, I'm tired, the boy murmurs. 

It would be nice to be someone else. It would be nice to get fixed up. Being a different Ouma Kokichi would be amazing. 

His hand slaps against a bottle that has liquid in it. Maybe? 

It's at that point, glass or plastic pouring something down his lips and chin, that Kokichi blacks out.

**Author's Note:**

> https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
> 
> https://www.childhelp.org/hotline/
> 
> https://www.rainn.org/
> 
> http://crisiscallcenter.org/crisisservices-html/
> 
> https://www.aa.org/
> 
> https://drugabuse.com/library/drug-abuse-hotlines/
> 
> In this story we see a pregame version of Kokichi from my smut fic Desires. Essentially, Pre-Game Nympho Kokichi. 
> 
> Unlike Desires there is no outrageously erotic doujinshi element to this. 
> 
> One thing most people don't like to talk about is CSA. Or what it can do to you beyond the more well known things. So lets break a little thing down first, I do have first hand experience as does someone I'm unfortunately no longer in contact with. For my own sake and theirs, just in case, this was not primarily based on those experiences. That comes later. This was practice to see how well I could write it. Or if I really could. To an extent I had, but it didn't start out very easy at all. 
> 
> CSA standing for child sexual abuse if you didn't know. 
> 
> I didn't get to put in much of everything I've written about in the PGN Kokichi timeline, or setting, but this is how the writing cookies crumble. 
> 
> Content includes: eighteen year old engaging in both prostitution and compensated dating to start with. Mentioned rape, drug use, alcohol, mother-son sexual abuse from a young age, multiple murders, Kokichi being filmed in child pornography, implied sexual slavery, child kidnapping/captivity, and attempted suicide. This is among other things. 
> 
> As examples and warnings, again, if these things are too much then do not read the full fic. 
> 
> If you liked Desires and don't want to ruin in via hindsight, don't read this either, but do note that this was always how the au existed in my mind. 
> 
> Should it make you feel better... He lives and enters Dangan Ronpa V3.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Abnormality](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447151) by [rev_eeriee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rev_eeriee/pseuds/rev_eeriee)




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